Dust to Dust
by Riddell Lee
Summary: AU. Danny has just acquired his ghost powers, and if that didn't shock him enough the fact that he now has to defend his town from ghosts would.  More realistic and Dark, as well as a Mega-Crossover: Supernatural, House MD, Bones etc  Rating may Change
1. The Art of Dying

**Dust to Dust  
><strong>

**Plot:** AU. Danny Fenton has just acquired his ghost powers, and if that didn't shock him enough, the fact that he now has to defend his town from ghosts certainly would. Not to mention that the world of Danny Phantom is about to get a lot more realistic and dark, plus he's about to meet a lot of interesting people.

**Pairing(s):** Hints of Danny/Sam, Danny/Paulina, Danny/Valerie and possible Danny/OC. Really depends on fan response.

**Rating:** Teen – Subject to change

**Fandoms to Appear: **Supernatural, House M.D. Bones, Doctor Who, Merlin, An no Exorcist, and Harry Potter

**Fandoms I'm Considering:** Being Human, Castle, Dexter, BBC Sherlock, Black Butler, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Darker Than Black, Code Geass, Psych, Warehouse 13, White Collar, Dollhouse, Twilight, and assorted Superhero movies.

**Disclaimer:** Hartman has acknowledged the existence of fanfiction, and doesn't mind if we borrow his characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Welcome to the sequel of Ashes to Ashes, although you don't need to read the first part to understand and enjoy this. The first part really only explains the origin and makeup of ghosts and what the ghost zone is. [Which is all sorted out in Chapter Six, if you're curious]

As mentioned above, this will be a Mega-Crossover. It will all be written from the DP Fandom's perspective. So, be prepared for a very long, multi-arc story of pure awesomeness. You can take a look at the list of fandoms and request something to happen when the two collide – Could be anything from an encounter you would like to see happen, a short little side-plot or even a large-scale plot. I'll take everything into consideration.

Enjoy.

* * *

><p>Dust to Dust<p>

We wait for our turn

We stand and we run

We don't understand

We can't quite comprehend

We try and we fail

We beg and we plead

We hide and we're found

Until one day

Ashes to ashes

Dust to dust

We fall

We rust

So we pray and we play

We're all that we can

We prepare for the day

We whisper and we yell

We laugh and we live

We wait for our time

Until one day

Ashes to ashes

Dust to dust

We fall

We rust

* * *

><p><strong>[1]<strong>

**The Art of Dying**

"I'm glad my doomed soul's good for something."

Dean Winchester, _Supernatural_

* * *

><p><em>On.<em>

It was amazing how two letters could have such an amazing impact on his life. How such a short and seemingly unobtrusive word could shatter his world, and cause it to come crumbling down in a cascade of brilliant light and pain. Somewhere in the back of his head, a panicked voice was berating his actions, repeating – as if he didn't already know – how stupid and impulsive he'd been.

Daniel Fenton was dying.

After all, one person could not be subject to this much pain and still live, not completely anyway. The vibrant shockwave of green ectoplasmic energy blasted through him, swirled within him as horrid screams filled the air. His throat was ripping apart, as though the cells were in such anguish that they were tearing themselves into tiny pieces if only to stop feeling. He wanted to black out, to _die_; anything that would stop the sensation of wave-like particles slamming into him and setting his entire cellular structure on fire.

And then his vision went white, the most beautiful snowy white that blinded him completely. His screams sounded a far off, as though they didn't belong to him – and yet he knew they did. He tried to open his eyes, but whether he succeeded or not he had no idea for the same stark white greeted him regardless. How much longer would this pain endure? He knew what had happened already, he knew it like he had never known anything in his life, an all consuming thought that didn't let even the agony stop it.

He had died.

Or, more accurately, he was dying since he was fairly certain that death was painless. Oh, God, if it wasn't—if he was to endure this for the rest of eternity—

"Fear not."

_What?_

He tried to look around, tried to see the visage of the speaker. His pain-overloaded brain should not have been able to hear the words, let alone understand them. But, for some reason he _could_.

"You have not done the work you were meant to. It is not your time yet."

A hand pressed down on his shoulder and warmth filled him. The pain was receding, was disappearing in the wake of the tender touch. A drop of glistening gold had been poured into his fluttering heart, into his very soul, filling him with glowing light as bright and as beautiful as the expanse that blinded him.

"You have been called to do a great and marvelous work among these people. You have been called as their protector." The man had a warm, if accented voice, like he was smiling as he faded away. "Daniel Fenton, fight against the adversary till the end of time."

And he melted into a sweet painless oblivion of darkness.

* * *

><p>Dust to Dust<p>

* * *

><p>"DANNY?"<p>

It was the shriek of his name that jerked Daniel back into consciousness, and he jerked forward gasping for air. Immediately there was another scream and he turned to see both his friends staring at him as though they had never seen him before. Sam's face was streaked with tears, and Tucker was pale as death. But there was something odd, and it took him a moment to realize what it exactly it was.

They were both several feet away from him.

Not that he took to imaging the particulars of his death, but weren't his friends supposed to be draped over him either feverishly administering CPR or attempting to slap him awake? And _not_ standing several feet away shouting at him – since he wasn't sure when that had _ever_ brought anyone back to life. Plus, with the look they were giving him, he might as well still be dead.

Dead.

Why wasn't he dead? The pain felt like a dream, like some horrible nightmare and yet it was as real as the cold metal floor of his father's lab. But, there was no pain. None whatsoever. As though his pain had happened to someone else. Tentatively he brought his hand to massage his throat, but it bore no evidence of the brutal usage it had just borne.

"Danny?" Tucker repeated, breathing his name as though he were lying on his deathbed with the Grim Reaper practically bowing over him.

Danny frowned. "Yes, Tuck. I think that _is _my name." It didn't escape his notice that his voice seemed to echo through the room, or the way that Tucker seemed to flinch when he heard it. His confusion deepened. Sam was hastily wiping away her tears, though she seemed unperturbed by – well, by whatever it was that was freaking Tucker out.

She opened her mouth the say something, paused and then, "Um… Maybe his parents won't notice?"

"Notice what?"

Danny glanced behind him and felt as though he'd been slapped in the face. The portal was there, but it wasn't the same dead piece of machinery that he'd walked into. No, the empty hole that had once been in the wall was filled with a swirling mass of green light, which seemed to change viscosity and shade at random.

"No—" Tucker's quavering voice brought Danny back to look at him. Tucker pointed a shaking finger at _him_.

Danny stared. He _felt_ okay. Or did he? Now that he paused to think about it, there was a lightness in his limbs that he hadn't really noticed before, as though they could actually rest on the air molecules around him. He felt a little cold – but he _was_ still sitting on the hard ground of the basement. He brought a hand up to check his hair when he stopped, his arm hanging in front of his face.

He distinctly remembered that the gloves to his suit were black. Not _white._ He stared at it for a moment, the seconds slowly ticking by as his brain tried to understand what the eyes were seeing. Then, in one bound he'd leapt to his feet and raced for the nearest mirror –which was the one above the emergency sink in the far corner.

The boy that looked back at him was so unlike him that he leapt backward with a cry.  
>He shot a panicked look at Tucker – who simply nodded blankly, looking just as freaked out – and approached the mirror again, trying to resist the urge to scream.<p>

The boy that met him was thin, the black material of the suit seeming to be a little loose around his arms and chest, despite the fact that it was supposed to outline his body perfectly. His entire outline was that of white light, which seemed to harden and lose it's solidity randomly. The boy had pristine snowy white hair that swept to one side and was delicately layered so that is appeared light and fluffy. His skin was handsomely tanned and seemed to posses a golden sheen that was impossible to achieve artificially. But his eyes were what Danny couldn't stop looking at. They were green, the richest green he had ever seen with different shades of the color giving depth and texture. They were the color of the swirling Ghost Zone, and they shone just as brightly.

"Oh my God—"

"Danny, it's going to be okay."

"I'm—"

"Danny. Just calm down, we'll sort it all out."

"But—I'm—_dead._"

He didn't know what happened next, but a wave of lightheadedness had hit him and one moment he was standing there, and the next he was back on the floor blinking as someone shook him. There was _a lot_ more people gathered around him now, all looking worried.

"Danny! DANNY! Oh, thank God."

"M-Mom?" Danny felt as though his stomach had just disappeared. He was dead. He was a ghost, his mom was going to try and run experiments on him, tear him apart _molecule by molecule…_

"We thought you'd died! Don't ever scare me like that again!"

_Huh?_

Danny stared at her, totally loss for words. He lifted his head from the floor and immediately regretted it. It felt like he had just gone five rounds with Rocky in the ring. _Everything_ hurt, and his stomach threatened to show him exactly what stage of digestion he was in. He groaned and laid his head back down, not missing the way his throat felt like someone had shoved a serrated blade down it.

Confusion described his state of mind a little too mildly. A lot too mildly.

He squinted his eyes and located Tucker standing behind Sam, looking just about as baffled as he felt, and nowhere near the correct shade of color. Sam was radiating worry, but she was no match for the assault of emotions that rolled off his parents, practically suffocating him.

"You did it, Danny!" his father was saying, seeming to relax now that he saw his son had awoken. "You got the Ghost Portal working!"

"What were you _thinking_?" His mother nearly screeched. "You could have been disfigured, seriously injured. You could have died. What were you thinking, Daniel Fenton?" Danny blinked, realizing that drops of water were falling onto his face. He wanted to know what the hell had just happened. Had the mysterious boy with white hair just… vanished? Had he been just an incredibly vivid hallucination brought on by a near-death experience?

"Mom," Danny croaked and he instantly regretted it. If his throat hadn't been the source of his pain, he would've screamed. Okay, no more words coming out of him. His mother pressed her finger to his lips, shaking her head firmly as if to say she understood. He could feel her shaking.

"Sam said your hand was in the portal when the power surged." Even her voice was shaking. Danny however blinked and looked up at Sam who was fidgeting slightly. There had been a lot more than just his _hand_ in the portal, and she knew it. Why hadn't she told his mother everything? Unless the boy hadn't been a hallucination… but his parents didn't seem to think he was dead at all. All the same, he slowly turned his neck to look at the hand that had pressed the _on_ button. It looked perfectly normal – but then again, it hadn't been just his hand.

"Oh my, the shock must've gone right through you," his mother said and he could hear the tears in her voice. "You could've died, I—We heard you from _outside_ Danny. I thought—"

"It's okay, Mrs. Fenton," Sam said putting a hand on her shoulder. Danny was grateful. He'd wanted to do something similar, but that was most definitely not happening. "He's fine."

Tucker made a weird little squeak.

"Okay, well he _will_ be fine."

"He needs medical attention!" Came Jazz's freaked out voice from somewhere behind Tucker. It didn't escape his notice that both his friends thought that was a very bad idea. He was starting to freak out a little – where was the boy from the mirror?

"Jazz, no one knows how to treat injuries like this," Sam said so smoothly that Danny blinked. It sounded like she'd practiced how to handle this – or done it several times. "Your parents know how to take care of him, better than any doctor."

"But—"

"No, she's right honey," Maddie was regaining some composure. "We built it, we know what injuries it can inflict."

"That's why I told you to stay out of the basement." Jack was sounding more than a little cross. "You're in a world of trouble mister."

"I think being singed into unconsciousness is punishment enough," came Jazz's grumbling reply.

Danny was about to nod in agreement with her when he was suddenly scooped up into the air. Despite his previous decision not to make any noise, he was unable to stop the small cry that left him when his body was jostled. _Now_ he felt like he'd been in the middle of a power surge. His throat throbbed angrily in protest and he automatically grabbed it with his hand.

"Jack! Be _careful_."

"Sorry," came his father's muffled reply.

"It's okay Danny, you'll be right as rain in no time."

"And then you can see what it is that you turned on! It's a thing of beauty, son!"

Danny frowned, but no one saw it as his face was pressed into the soft orange jumpsuit of his father. He _had_ seen it. And it wasn't just beautiful. On the other side was a world that none of them knew anything about. But, it was also a stark reminder of a boy with eyes of the same color. What had happened in the last—however long it'd been? Sam was obviously lying to his parents, and Tucker seemed to be helping her. Had he imagined _all_ of it? Was it him whose version of the story was convoluted? Had the boy merely been a hallucination?

Except for the fact that he somehow _knew _he was not.

He knew. He didn't know _how_ he knew, but he knew. He knew it deep within himself. He knew it more than a feeling, more than belief, more than fact. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to slip back into the comfort of darkness. And, just before the pain disappeared, before his mind completely closed down, a sensation came to him.

A piece of golden warmth within his heart. But it wasn't just in his heart. It was in _him_, his soul. And there, prickling in the corner of his eye was a frosty coldness that waited for his command.

* * *

><p>Dust to Dust<p>

* * *

><p>"What on earth happened?"<p>

"Dude, you were _there_. You know what happened."

"No I don't! I was being held captive by my over-protective parents."

"Did you hit your head or something? We were both _there._ We watched Danny go inside that—that thing and turn it on!"

There was a pause, a groan. "I would say you're lying but even I couldn't make this shit up. Maybe my mom drugged me when I got home or something."

"She would do that?"

"She _has_ done that."

"When!"

"Oh, it doesn't matter."

"Was that why you didn't come to my—"

"Ug, can you guys keep it down?" Danny asked thickly, grateful that his throat was feeling dry and scratchy, but otherwise all right. "The injured is trying to sleep."

"Danny!"

He smiled and then opened his eyes. Sam and Tucker were sitting on the end of his bed. Tucker had the appearance of someone who hadn't slept all night, while Sam seemed to be nursing a hangover – making him suspect that she really _had_ been drugged. He flexed his hands tentatively and when pain didn't shoot through them, he slowly sat up, leaning against his headrest.

"Hey guys," he said in the same cracked voice. He licked his lips, his tongue running over peeling and dry skin. Sam immediately reached for his bedside table, handing him a glass of water.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as he drank deeply.

"Alive," he said and he thought he saw Tucker stiffen slightly. "The pain is almost gone, I think. How long was I out?"

"Only a day. It's about noon."

"Your parents let you skip school?" Danny felt himself smile again. "Or am I so special that you snuck out?"

Sam laughed and Tucker seemed to nervously joined in. "I—" his best friend started. "I told my parents what happened, and they let me skip. I texted Sam and she just cut classes."

"Because you forgot?" Danny said turning toward her, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, you heard that? Yeah, I woke up having no clue what'd happened. Tucker's just been explaining—" she paused, looked around the room, then continued in a whisper as though worried that someone was listening in. "Tucker said you _changed_."

Danny blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Tucker said, and his voice adapted a rather shrill tone. "You stumbled out of the portal and onto the floor, except that—that it wasn't you. I mean it was, I mean—"

"The boy with white hair," Danny said softly and Tucker nodded.

"Yeah, _him_. And when you went to look in the mirror, I think the shock made you faint. Can ghosts even _faint_?"

"Well, I'm obviously not a ghost," Danny said, frowning.

"Yeah, except you are."

"You changed," Sam said, glancing at him. "Tuck said that after you passed out, this blue ring appeared around your middle and—"

"It like, went all over and there was this flash of white light – not to mention the sound that kinda reminded me of a light saber – and suddenly you were normal again."

Danny stared at the both of them.

"Like I said, even I couldn't make this shit up."

Danny would've laughed at Sam's comment if his mind weren't feverishly trying to make sense of what they had both said. Almost comically, he looked down at his arm and gave it a very hard pinch. It hurt and felt solid enough. He was definitely human. "I'm… very much human."

Tucker made a sound as though he had tried to say something and failed miserably.

"What, Tuck?"

"You—your leg just disappeared."

Both he and Sam immediately looked down. He was under the blankets, but even so what he saw made him gasp. One of his legs, the right one was _gone_. The blanket fell flat and straight onto the bed, the bump of his left looking very lonely. He immediately jumped up, tumbling with a yell to the floor.

"What the—" Danny could see his leg, just fine. He glanced at Tucker and Sam, who were both staring at it as though expecting it to explode. Very slowly, he got to his feet. He felt incredibly stiff, but somehow so very rejuvenated. "It's here..." he said blankly.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Sam said, rolling her violet colored eyes.

"Right so what was—" Tucker didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, because very abruptly, Danny fell to the ground. His leg had just given way, as though it had lost the floor beneath it. Muttering curses, Danny rubbed the part of his head that had taken a hit on the floor; while turning to look at what on earth had made him fall. He stared stupidly at his leg for several moments.

It was still there, his leg. But it had lost all the solidity that it usual held. He could actually see right through it, to the wooden floor beneath him and even as he watched it seemed to flicker oddly before suddenly becoming solid again. He looked up at Tucker who swallowed.

"I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for that."

"I'm de—"

"No, you are quite obviously not dead," Sam interrupted.

"Not completely, anyway."

"Tucker!"

"He's a little bit dead, Sam."

"Guys!" Danny was could actually feel his hands shaking. "What is going on?"

"How should I know?" Sam shot back. "Maybe we should ask—"

"No way, Sam," Tucker interrupted. "We can _not_ tell Danny's parents."

"But Tucker, what if they can help?"

"No, Tuck's right. If they find out I'm a ghost then my life will be over."

Tucker frowned. "That's… what being a ghost means, dude."

"Oh my—Tuck! You know what I mean! My _afterlife_ will be over."

"Just, calm down Danny. We'll figure this out, okay?"

Danny nodded, taking in several deep breaths. But ghosts didn't _breathe_, so he had to be alive. Sorta. He held his breath, deciding to check and see if he didn't _need_ to breathe. After a few moments he was forced to take a gulp of oxygen. Okay, so he definitely needed to breath.

"Do you have a pulse, Danny?" Sam seemed to have realized what he was doing.

"Um…" Danny put his hand on his heart and breathed slowly through his mouth. There _was_ a soft beating beneath his palm, though it seemed a little slower than he would've expected it to be. "It's slow, but there."

"Okay, so you're definitely alive."

Then she blinked, her mouth dropping open. Tucker gulped. "And he's also most definitely a ghost."

"Why?"

"Because you've just gone invisible, dude."

Danny let out a yell and looked down at his body, just in time to see it flicker back into visibility. He looked up at his friends, before dashing over to the mirror hanging on his closet door. He was still _him_ though. His hair was messy and inky black, his eyes a sharp icy blue.

"You're alive, and you're dead. You're a walking contradiction."

"Thanks Tuck," Danny said savagely. "I really needed that."

"Maybe it's just a side effect, and it'll go away." Sam didn't sound sure at all.

"Yeah, or maybe I'm half-ghost—" Danny immediately broke off. He wasn't sure why he'd said those words, but the instant he had he was taken aback by how very _right_ they sounded. He wasn't dead. He wasn't alive. He didn't have a craving for human brains, so he wasn't a zombie and nor did he have an unsatisfied need for human blood. Besides, turning invisible – and intangible, he realized – were traits monopolized by ghosts.

"Maybe I did die a little…"

"How on earth do you die _a little_?"

"He's only mostly dead."

"Tuck! Now's not the time to be making jokes!" Danny ran a hand through his hair. It was silent between them for a long moment. He didn't know what his friends were thinking of, but he was trying to rationalize what had happened to him. Make sense of it. Understand why he wasn't dead – because he certainly felt like he should've been – and why it wasn't entirely alive either.

"Change back."

"What?" Danny blinked, looking up at Tucker.

"Change back," his best friend repeated, an expression of dawning realization on his face. "Into the you with white hair."

"But—" Danny didn't even want to think of that boy as him. It just couldn't have been _him_. He'd never looked so… powerful in is life. It just didn't happen. "I don't know how!" Or if he even could.

"You turned back to… you, so you have to be able to turn back into—er—him."

"But Tucker," Sam said frowning slightly. "If he _is_ half-ghost – which by the way, actually sounds a little cool – I don't think he should be testing it out in a house of ghost hunters."

"It's not _cool!_" Danny spluttered, waving his arms widely around his head. "It means at least a part of me has _died_."

Tucker fidgeted slightly. "Honestly, I thought you had died completely. The way you were—" He trailed off, looking a little paler than usual. There was no need for him to finish his sentence; Danny knew what he was referring too. The way he was screaming… he'd been pretty sure he'd died as well.

"Do you remember anything?" Sam asked him softly.

Danny paused, taking a seat on the floor and leaning back against his closet. He looked down at his hand, watching as it flickered invisible and then back again. He hadn't _wanted_ to remember anything. The pain was still so very clear in his mind, so very real that he almost winced at the memory of it. It was blocking out everything else, burying everything.

"Just pain," he whispered. "And then I was waking up on the floor."

"That's it?"

"I remember looking at myself in the mirror."

"I mean before that. Anything at all?"

Danny opened his mouth to say no, when something stopped him. He remembered something, but he wasn't even sure if it was real or if it was just a dream. Almost subconsciously, he put his hand over his heart, feeling the slow rhythmic beats.

"A feeling," he said slowly. "A really warm feeling." There was something else there, but he couldn't make it out. "It felt like it wasn't my time to go," he said wondering why those words sounded familiar to him. "That's it." So why did it feel like he was missing something?

"I think you should try to change."

"You don't even know that I will!"

Tucker shook his head. "You don't know. I'm pretty sure. I watched you do it once, dude."

Danny swallowed, getting to his feet again. "But what about my parents? If they see I'm—" He became acutely aware that he was slowly sinking through the floor. He looked down to see _both_ his legs perfectly intangible and sliding smoothly through the floor. Before he could muster a yell – of shock or fright – his friends seized him from under the armpits and pulled him out. His legs flickered back to normal.

"If they saw a foot downstairs—"

"Well, I don't hear anyone racing towards us with guns ablaze," Sam said, looking a little ashen faced. She sighed. "Maybe Tucker has a point, maybe you should try."

"But—"

"I'll lock the door." Tucker crossed the room and turned the lock. "Just in case."

Danny frowned. "Okay, fine. But I don't know _how_ to change, or shift, or whatever the hell it was I did in the laboratory."

"I dunno, think about it?" Tucker suggested. Danny didn't miss the excited flicker in his friend's green eyes. Even Sam seemed to have replaced her worry for anticipation. Personally, he felt a little annoyed. They were acting like he was about to do a card trick or something. Didn't they understand how serious this was, especially if they were right? If he _was_ half-ghost? Like, what did that mean? What did that entail? Could he die, would he age? Or would he just be stuck like this forever now, a scrawny boy of fourteen whose only achievement was turning on a piece of equipment?

Even so, he thought about it. He thought about _him._ The boy with snowy white hair and skin like gold. But he couldn't think about being him. He _wouldn't_. He had enough problems to worry about and being half-dead was most certainly _not_ one of them. Which, he knew was a loosing battle since his hand was going invisible again. He sighed, shaking his hand as though trying to make it go back to normal.

"I don't know _how_."

"Imagine being _him_."

"No." Danny bit his lip. "I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?"

"Just like it sounds."

Sam folded her arms, giving him one of her scrutinizing stares. "It's okay Danny. This is just another part of you."

"What happened to the side effect theory?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You think a human can have those kinds of abilities without being something more?" She paused, and then slowly reached out, gripping his shoulder. "Relax. Take a deep breath. We'll get through this, okay?"

"But my parents—"

"They're not going to find out. And even if they did, do you really think they'll just strap you down to a gurney and cut your heart out?"

"Wouldn't put it past them," Danny muttered and Sam punched him in the shoulder. "Ouch! Sam!"

"Just making sure you're still solid cause your brain doesn't seem to be working."

Danny let out a frustrated sigh and turned away from both of them, taking in deep breaths. Sam's hand slid off his shoulder. Everything Azazel had ever said was spinning through his mind, making him feel sick and queasy. Was this the reason why the demon hadn't killed him? Was this why the ectoplasm had been fond of him, or whatever the hell he had called it?

Was this what he meant when he asked, "What are you?"

"It's okay," Tucker said behind him, sounding nervous. "It's okay to be _him_. He looked kinda cool, you know."

"And I don't remember what he looks like at all."

Danny nodded, letting himself calm down. He tried to picture the boy again in his head, try to see it as himself. He closed his eyes, remembering how he stood in front of the mirror and the reflection he saw there. He opened his eyes.

"Did it work?"

"No dude, you still got black hair."

"I told you I don't know how."

And then, there was a rattle as someone tried the doorknob. "Sam, Tucker? Why's the door locked?"

Tucker immediately blanched. He wasn't the only one; Danny knew he was sharing a similar look of total panic.

"What should I do?"

"Get back under the covers. At least then she won't notice if your limbs are invisible."

"And what if I go completely invisible."

"Just don't do that!"

"Sam? What's going on?"

"Coming Mrs. Fenton! Danny, just… concentrate on being visible. Okay?"

As he leapt back into bed, throwing the blanket back over himself, Danny considered very briefly telling his mother what had happened to him. Whatever he had said, the likelihood of his parents _actually_ dissecting him was a little far-fetched. They still knew that he was their son. But, he couldn't bring himself to tell her as she entered and smiled. As she raced to his side and gave him a hug, telling him how she couldn't believe that he'd already awakened and if he was feeling all right.

He couldn't tell her because he couldn't let her world become as messed up as his was now.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

The muse for this story took my by surprise, but I'm ever so pleased. Now, if you couldn't guess from the quote, the first arc is going to include the Supernatural fandom. As of right now, I think they'll be making their appearance in Chapter Three or at the very end of Chapter Two.

I already like this story so much more than it's predecessor. So, hopefully that means I won't leave you all hanging too long in between updates, but you have to be patient with me. The next semester is starting in April and I'll be busy in college, not to mention that I need to get a job - or hurry up and finish my book.

Reviews inspire me to write _that_ much faster, so it is in _your _best interest to review. :D


	2. A Ghost and A Boy

**Author's Note**

Well, this is out much faster than I thought it would be. Sadly, this chapter is really more of a "Danny trying to get a grip" than anything else. I restarted it nearly three times, because I couldn't figure out a good way to start it. That's kinda why there's no _prologue_ scene. I just didn't see this chapter having one - okay, more like, this chapter didn't want one.

Anyway. I hope you enjoy it! Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. I'm posting this at like, One in the morning.

* * *

><p><strong>[2]<strong>

**A Ghost and a Boy**

"This looks like a zombie pen, Sammy."  
>Dean Winchester, <em>Supernatural <em>

* * *

><p>"Oh my God—"<p>

"Danny, it's okay."

"No, it's not! She _had_ to have noticed!"

"I don't think so dude, I mean, you hid your arm under the covers pretty quick."

"And what about my _legs_?"

"She wasn't even looking at your legs. Relax, she didn't see anything out of the norm."

Danny took a deep calming breath, willing himself to calm down. Willing the panic to ebb away and leave him in peace – not that willing had ever worked in the past. He was standing again, his hair a horrid mess from all the times he'd ran his hands through it in his anxiety. The conversation with his mother had been tense to say the least, and not just on his end. Maddie seemed to have avoided the topic of the accident almost as much as they had, which was quite a feat considering the sheer number of times she'd asked Danny how he was feeling.

And he was feeling really quite excellent – physically anyway. A small fact that again made him realize just how very _not_ human he was. Apparently, that type of a shock would've killed a larger man than him instantly. The phrase, "Oh, if you'd been completely inside—!" only made him more certain of that. It seemed that just the current traveling through his hand could've sent him into a vegetative state for several months if not life, never mind a few pain filled weeks of bed confinement.

And, he was absolutely fine after one night's rest.

"Are you sure? I thought—"

"Danny!" Sam nearly had to shout in order to snap him out of his panic-filled mind. "Stop freaking out before you sink through the floor or something, everything is fine."

Danny nodded, wringing his hands together. Everything was fine. It was all going to be okay. God, no, it so _wasn't_! "Sam," he croaked, but she silenced him with a look.

"We are going to help you hide it from them, they'll never know."

"Unless I start disappear during dinner."

"Dude," Tucker said and he put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Take it easy. You don't even have to leave this room for at least another two days. I doubt she'll even let you get up until next week."

"That doesn't fill me with confidence, Tuck," Danny countered, narrowing his icy blue eyes.

"But it does give us some time to figure this out," Sam said. She looked strained, but excited. Danny frowned, resisting the urge to glare at her. She looked like she was about to tackle a school project or something. They both needed to take this more _seriously_! He had just _died_. A little—sort of—anyway, he had become half-ghost. He didn't want to be _ghostly_ or whatever! This was definitely not how he'd hoped to pass through high school. No, he'd wanted to be _normal_ and now, he couldn't even be _human_.

"My life is over." Deadpanned. Fact.

"I think that sums it up."

"Tucker!" Sam shouted. "Stop making it worse! He's already on the fritz!"

"Look, the faster he accepts it the better." Tucker had turned to Sam, making Danny feel almost as if they'd forgotten he was in the room. "He might not like it, but we all know that there's no way to reverse this kind of thing."

"Isn't there?" Danny spoke up, folding his arms. "Maybe I _should_ tell my parents. Maybe they can make something that'll change me back. Fix me."

"You don't need _fixing_." But Danny wasn't listening to Sam anymore. She'd always thought ghosts were very cool. He had no doubt that if she were in his shoes; she'd be over the moon right now. She'd be giggling and trying to learn how to float four feet above her covers, but he couldn't be like her. He wanted to be normal so badly, and if there was the smallest chance of that, he was going to find it.

"Whoa Dan—Danny!"

He'd been about to wrench open the door to his bedroom when to pairs of arms grabbed and pulled him back. He tried to shake them off, but he'd never been very strong. "Guys—" he shout, anger seizing him, but two pairs of hands clamped over his mouth effectively silencing him.

"Just think about this a second, Danny. This was an _accident_, the chances of this even occurring a so small—"

"Yeah," Tucker interrupted. "I mean, you were supposed to die in there. I mean completely," he added when Danny rolled his eyes. "And, what if your parents are even more excited by this than we are? What if instead of trying to fix you, they try to replicate it?"

He blinked. He hadn't thought about that.

"Exactly," Sam said nodding in agreement. "I have no idea what you can do – none of us do – but people will pay millions if there's even the smallest chance of immortality."

"I'm not _immortal!"_ Danny managed to get out, jerked his head out of their muzzle.

"But can you die?" Sam whispered back.

"Well, I definitely need to breathe," he said trying to throw them off. "You're smothering me guys."

"We just don't want to see you do something stupid, dude," Tucker countered. For a nerd, he had a surprisingly tight grip. And so warm. With both of his friends draped over him, trying to stop him from spilling his guts to his parents, he was starting to overheat. They both seemed so much warmer than he remembered – not that he remembered ever being in this situation before – but it felt like an inferno.

"Okay, okay," Danny said struggling with more vigor now. "I get it. I won't tell them, just let go of me."

"You sure?"

"Yes! I'm—" He was dimly aware that he'd actually _thought_ about going intangible. He'd let the thought cross his mind in a brief flash of concentration and the next moment, he was free. He heard his friends both grunt and slide to the ground, as he stumbled away. A wave of exhaustion swept over him and his knees buckled. He hit the floor – no longer intangible then – and he winced, clutching his knee, breathing hard as though he'd just run a mile.

"I'm sure," he finished, watching with a twinge of amusement as his friends were getting to their feet. Sam was regarding him with caution as though she half expected him to make a break for the door, but Tucker's eyes were popping.

"Did you do that?"

"Have you been asleep for like… the last day or something?"

"No, I mean did you _consciously_ do it this time?"

Danny's first impulse was to answer no. Tell them that it had just been another case of accidental ghost freakishness, but that wasn't true. He _had_ let himself think about it for a split second, more out of instinct than of anything. He felt himself pale, felt whatever color he still possessed to leave his face. Did he have _different_ instincts now? When faced with fight or flight would he turn invisible instead? He'd been silent too long; Tucker and Sam were exchanging identical looks of surprise.

"You made yourself go intangible?"

He deflated. "I—I think so."

"Are you okay, Danny?"

He opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it again. "Not really," he managed to croak. And the next moment, he was on his feet again pacing back and forth along the length of his bedroom. It was only after he'd taken the second step that he realized he hadn't actually gotten up from the floor. Somehow, he knew he'd just _materialized_ from the floor and onto his feet. A jerking sudden flicker that looked almost as if a few frames of the video had been deleted. Just great, he was starting to adapt to his newfound _abilities._

"I—I just wanted to be normal. I mean first I—I don't believe in ghosts and then immediately after I do I'm attacked by a friggin' demon. And then, our town is a—all cursed and we have ghosts everywhere—And then what!" He said the last part so shrilly that both Sam and Tucker flinched. "I die? I become one of—one of _them_?"

He stood still, still feeling spent after his moment of intentional power usage, breathing harder than was considered normal. No one replied to his words of heated anger and fear. Words of desperation. Danny wondered if they really understood the injustice that he felt, if they understood how cheated he felt by this life. It felt like it wasn't _his_ life. He was just a pawn in a bigger picture, and he was a slave to a destiny bigger then himself. As that thought swallowed him, consumed him, he slid to the ground.

"I was never meant to have a normal life," he whispered, staring blankly at the ground before him. "From the moment I was born, that luxury was taken away from me."

He buried his head in his hands, despair locking down logic. It was silent for a moment and then he felt someone grab his shoulders and shake him. "Danny, _you_ are being _ridiculous._"

He looked up and found Sam looking down at him. Her pale face was set with determination, her violet eyes narrowed and for a second, Danny actually thought she might slap him. After a moment however, she dropped her hands and knelt down in front of him, now at his eye level.

"Danny," she repeated. "Most people live their whole lives wanting to be a part of something bigger and greater than themselves. While you've been running toward a normal life, everyone's been running away from theirs."

"They can have _mine!"_ Danny said, knowing that he sounded whiny. "I don't want an extraordinary life! I'll trade! Someone else can become half-dead."

"You're not half-dead," Sam said softly. "You're not sort of alive. You are _here_, and that is all that matters."

Danny stared at her, unable to say anything to that. When it'd been silent between them for a moment, Tucker cleared his throat. "So, can I give him the 'with great power, comes great responsibility' speech?"

And Danny burst into laughter. He felt like he hadn't laughed in ages – funny how almost dying makes everything _less funny_ – and as soon as he did, a great cloud lifted from off his chest.

"Tucker! You ruined the moment!" Sam snapped, getting abruptly to her feet and making to club tucker over the head.

"I couldn't help it!" he said as he tried to dodge Sam's blow.

Danny Fenton wanted to be normal; he had wanted to be normal for several years now. But had he really? He paused, watching Sam berate Tucker for being insensitive while his mind went in another direction. His childhood had been filled with stories of ghosts, of incredible contraptions and of an excitement that little knew of. He'd been sent to the emergency room several times and he stayed up all night staring at the sky, waiting for that glimpse of paranormal activity.

Somewhere along the road of growing up, that part of him had been lost. Even now, he struggled to find it within him. He wanted to be accepted by his peers, he wanted to be liked by the pretty popular girls and he wanted to excel in school. But, at the thought of going through school without ghosts…

Well, that _was_ unbearably boring.

"Sam, you can stop your assault on Tucker." He smiled and he got to his feet, wrapping them both in a crushing hug. "Thank you," he whispered to them.

He took a step back from his friends, taking a deep breath. He tried to think about this boy, tried to see him no longer as _him _but as himself. He could see the snowy white hair; see the golden skin and white shinning light. He imagined _becoming _him, and opened his eyes.

Judging from the looks on Sam and Tucker's face, he was still the same. "Still don't know how to shift." _Or if I even can_.

"It'll come," Tucker said reassuringly. If only Danny had _his_ confidence.

"Are you _okay_, with changing now? Cause, I mean, that could've been the problem," Sam suggested.

Danny nodded. "I thought so too." He paused a moment, searching inside himself. "I think… I am okay with it. Maybe not completely, but definitely more so."

"Well, maybe hold off on it right now."

"Why?"

"Cause I think I hear your mom bringing up sandwiches."

* * *

><p>Dust to Dust<p>

* * *

><p>It was the cold that woke him.<p>

Danny Fenton shivered, bringing his arms closer against his torso while simultaneously trying to sink further into his blankets. There was one problem though; he didn't _have_ any blankets around him. With a jolt he sat up, trying to understand what had happened to the soft confines of his bed and the safety of his room. As he squinted in the darkness, brushing a mop of messy black hair out of his eyes he felt as though he'd been doused with cold water.

He was in the _kitchen_.

Why on earth was he attempting to sleep on the kitchen floor? How had he gotten there? To his knowledge, Danny hadn't left his bedroom all day. After Sam and Tucker had left, he'd managed to keep his parents away by claiming that he needed to sleep while he actually tried to understand this startling new list of powers that he had received. That, and he'd been terrified of accidentally turning invisible in front of his parents. He had made some definite progress though. He could turn invisible when he wanted to and turn intangible when he wanted to – but he still did it when he _didn't_ want to.

Back to the kitchen.

Danny got to his feet; acutely aware of how his hands and knees shook with adrenaline. Slowly, he looked up at the ceiling. Had he turned intangible while _sleeping_? Well, that was just bloody spectacular. He'd managed to hide these powers from his parents all day, but how was he supposed to be on guard during the night?

"All I wanted was normalcy," he spat into the quiet darkness of the empty kitchen. "But no—Danny doesn't get to live a normal life. Danny has to be a ghost boy."

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. As soon as he thought it, he was walking, having flitted from the floor to his feet in a heartbeat. He particularly liked that little power, the whole ghostly jerk as he jumped a few frames. Granted, he had a feeling that it would also be extremely difficult to _not_ do it. He walked up to his room, noting that his footfalls were still just as loud as they always were. Praying that his adventure didn't wake up his parents, he slipped back into his room.

Stifling a yawn, he stretched and climbed back into bed. Just flitting – as he had come to call it – took so much energy out of him. Never mind all the other tricks. And, he still couldn't get himself to shift into the white-haired boy. He had another theory, one that he hadn't mentioned to Sam and Tucker yet. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't strong enough to shift yet. If turning invisible for a fraction of a second and flitting to his feet left him breathing hard, he could just imagine what shifting would do.

* * *

><p>Dust to Dust<p>

* * *

><p>"Geeze Danny, did you get any sleep?"<p>

He glowered at Sam, the memory of the previous night in no way a pleasant one. "I woke up in the kitchen. _Twice_. After the second time, I wasn't exactly eager to go back to bed."

From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Tucker trying to withhold his laughter – not that he was succeeding. He got a glare too.

It was late afternoon now. Sam and Tucker hadn't been able to get out of school this time, but Danny's exhausted expression allowed him the luxury of hiding away in his room without any parental interaction whatsoever. Indeed, he had very nearly lost to his mother's insistence that he shouldn't see his friends and just sleep the day away. But, luckily for him, she'd relented.

"So, what? You got four hours of sleep?"

"It honestly feels like two."

"Did you try sleeping at all this morning? I mean, you could've taken a nap—"

"And end up in the kitchen, only this time in front of my family? No way. I've been splashing my face with cold water." Danny failed to stifle a yawn, making Sam exchange a worried expression with Tucker.

"You can't do that," she went on seriously. "You were so exhausted after yesterday and it's only been a few days since the accident!"

"Yeah, well," Danny folded his arms. "I can't exactly control this in my sleep." He flickered into invisibility. "I can't even control it when I'm awake!" He gave out a sigh of frustration and concentrated on being _visible_. After a second, he went back to normal, another morsel of energy sapped away.

"But you're getting a little better at it, right?"

"Hardly," Danny countered and Tucker frowned. "I mean, I can get myself to _do _it but I can't _stop_ it. I have almost no control over when it decides to strike."

Sam folded her arms, surveying him. "Do you feel tired after you do it, unintentionally?"

Danny paused. He hadn't really thought about that. "No. I mean, not really. I guess I do feel a little weaker, but nothing compared to when I try to actually do it."

"Dude, that's a little paradoxical."

"Tuck, that's an enormous word. I feel stupid just hearing you use it."

"But it is!"

"Anyway," Sam interrupted them, rolling her eyes. "Maybe its like your body testing things out. Understanding it, just like how you were."

Danny frowned. "Like giving myself a test drive?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"I don't even know if that's realistic, Sam."

"Have you tried shifting today? Maybe that'll help even things out or something," Tucker suggested. Danny didn't miss the way his eyes glittered hopefully. Danny wasn't even sure that Tucker believed what he said, he was willing to bet every comic book he owned that Tucker would say anything if it meant seeing phenomena again. Even Sam – who didn't remember it at all – wasn't so persistent. Even now, she looked at Tucker and shook her head.

"If he can't control these _powers_, I'd hate to see him with a whole armada of them!"

"But Sam—"

"Tuck, she has a point," Danny interrupted. "Besides, I'd hate to think of how exhausted I'd be after a shift, if just concentrating on being solid wipes me out."

"Yeah…" But he didn't look very happy with it. He glanced down at his watch, sighing loudly. "I only have another hour before I gotta go back home."

"Any my mom will probably usher you both away in half that time."

Danny flopped back onto his bed, sleep begging and fear resisting. Not just fear of his parents finding out though, not just the fear of waking up in the kitchen and having to explain how he gotten there. What happened when he started going to school again? He couldn't hide here for very long. Already, he was starting to worry about the workload piling up. But the chances of him having these abilities mastered in another few days was almost entirely impossible!

And there wasn't a bed-sheet to hide beneath when he accidentally screwed up either.

"Do… do you want to try sleeping a bit?" Sam suggested in a small voice. "Tucker and I will wake you if start to do anything—er—odd."

Danny couldn't even protest. He merely nodded, letting his eyelids close. He was asleep before he'd taken another breath. But it felt like only seconds later when he was being jostled awake.

"Wha—I 'visble?"

He heard Tucker chuckling, and it took a moment for him to open his eyes and focus on his best friend. "You're fine, dude," he said shaking his head. "You didn't do anything, but your mom's just peeked in. We gotta go."

"Oh." And suddenly he was wide-awake. "Thanks, guys." He knew it couldn't have been very interesting, sitting there and just watching him sleep. He blinked. That sounded a little creepy, now that he thought about it… Tucker didn't seem to notice though. He had one of his mischievous grins in place.

"You talk in your sleep." He sounded like he'd just found a gold mine.

Danny gaped. "I do _not._"

"Well, you certainly do now."

Danny looked at Sam, but she was wringing her hands together. "Do I really talk in my sleep?" he shot at her, but from the uncomfortable hunching of her shoulders, he already knew his answer.

"Well," she said. "You said a _few_ things. Mostly just anger at the universe, type stuff."

"I ranted in my sleep?"

"Dude, you _cussed out_ the entire universe. I think rant puts it mildly."

"It wasn't that bad," Sam said, but she was biting her lip. Tucker raised a brow.

"He said—"

"Oh, I don't want to hear it," Danny interrupted, covering his ears with his hands. Whatever he had said, it was sure to sound ten times worse coming out of Tucker's mouth. Thankfully, his friend simply dissolved into chuckles again.

"Okay, we're off then. Try not to do anything stupid while we're gone."

Danny rolled his eyes. "What, and let you miss out on the fun?" he replied, sarcasm layering his tone. "I'll do my absolute best."

"Danny," Sam said and he looked at her, his expression growing to mimic her somber tone. "Just be careful."

"I will."

And then they were gone, his door swinging shut behind them. It felt too quiet in his room now, and cold too as though they had taken the heat with them when they'd left. But, for once, Danny wasn't cold. If anything, he felt more at home within it. He sighed and got up, crossing over to the mirror once more.

A skinny boy of fourteen gazed back at him, raven black hair tossed with bed-head and sky blue eyes dull with exhaustion. Even as he watched, his entire person vanished from sight before flickering back into sight. It didn't tire him though – now that he was paying more attention to it. He screwed up his eyes, concentrating on becoming invisible and after a moment he flickered out of sight. He held onto it for as long as he dared, and when he came back into sight he doubled over, breathing heavily.

Maybe it was like running.

He could sprint suddenly for a few seconds without any trouble at all. After all, when being chased by Dash, instinct took over and he could run at a speed that would've made him perfect for track and field. However, when it came for PE, he was wiped out after just one lap around the gym. Maybe he just had to build up a tolerance for it.

Or was it?

In a spurt of recklessness, Danny concentrated again. He went invisible again – faster this time, he noticed – and tried to hold onto it. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears, feel his knees start to shake beneath him. When he reverted back, he didn't even wait until he'd caught his breath before trying to do it again. His mind was screaming in protest, his body begging him to stop. Well hey; maybe if he was too wiped out he wouldn't even have the energy to become intangible while he slept.

When he reached the end of the third rep, his knees buckled and he slid to the floor gasping for breath. He glanced at the clock on his bed-stand and blinked. He managed to stay invisible for nearly half-an-hour in all. It was definitely a new record – even if his legs felt like jelly. He just sat there, breathing in and out, watching as his reflection grew darker with the setting sun. How long he stayed like that, he had no idea. His mother must've thought he was still asleep for she didn't come up to his room once after Sam and Tucker had left. Maybe they'd told her that he'd wanted to be left alone. It didn't really matter. All that mattered was the slow movement of his chest as he sucked in oxygen, and then expelled it.

"I'm a ghost boy," he whispered into the gloom, breaking the silence that had descended. But that didn't sound right. He frowned, wondering why it something was wrong. "No—I'm _the_ ghost boy," he continued.

"There's only one of me, after all."

And then he felt the cold in the corner of his eye; he felt it more strongly than he ever had before. He wasn't afraid to prod it with his mind, wasn't scared to understand more of whom this new _him_ was.

He flitted to his feet, still very much aware of the frosty chill that lurked just out of sight. He supposed that this was the shift, waiting for him to call upon it. Tentatively, he reached out toward it and it seemed to jump out of his reach. He took a deep breath, and tried again. He didn't try to touch it, didn't imagine the boy with white hair. Instead, he tried to _feel_ it. He turned his inner eye to look at it, trying to see into the corner of his eye. The part that no one ever looked, because they were afraid of what they might see.

And the cold exploded, enveloping him a rush of icy white light.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Sorry guys! I left you on a _cliffhanger_. Okay, not really. Because I'm spoiling it for you. No. You don't get to see him go ghost. :D Not yet, anyway. I don't think even Danny's going to get to see himself go ghost. Yes, he is going to wake up on the floor in front of his mirror. And yes, Sammy and Dean show up next chapter.

Please, please review. Yes, you may yell at me for being so inconsiderate in leaving you in a spot like that. :D Reviews make me work faster, so it is in _your _best interest to review!


End file.
